


A Champion and His Horses

by nocturne-of-forest (annathescavver)



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Animal and human friendships, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Trauma, horse riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29224281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annathescavver/pseuds/nocturne-of-forest
Summary: Outside of Dueling Peaks Stable, a horse steals every apple in Link’s possession. The next thing he knows, the horse is asleep at his side and, when he goes to leave, she stubbornly follows him.So he continues his quest, now with his newfound companion. To Kakariko and Hateno, to each of the Divine Beasts, Mollie walks at his side and he at hers. Along the way, they meet others: allies and friends alike, as well as other horses that join in on their adventures. From the gentle-hearted and supportive, to the tough, wild tempered, to the one that would much rather sleep in the sun and have flowers braided into their hair, each horse befriends Link in their own way.Link learns many things as he travels with them. Patience, how to see his own worth outside of the knight whose legacy he carries, what it’s like to run and feel so wild and alive. Above all, he learns how to just be a person again.
Relationships: Implied Link/Mipha, Link & Zelda
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	1. The Gentle-Hearted One

He met Mollie in a warm, sunlit pasture.

Seeking a sense of quiet, Link left the stable and headed towards the field where he lost himself amidst the tall grass. There, he gorged himself on the sweet red apples that grew nearby until his stomach was so full he felt sick. Despite this, he felt lighter, and more at peace, than he had since waking up in the underground shrine. The day was calm. The breeze smelled like grass and fresh, clear water. The wilderness around him sang and rustled and grew.

Shirt full of yet more apples, he climbed out of the tree. And that’s when he saw her. 

Her sudden presence started him, so much so that his collection of fruits fell from his arms and rolled into the grass. One would think he would have been upset, as the mare blatantly began to feast on the apples, but he just...wasn’t. Why get angry, when were hundreds more apples?

And something in him, some loneliness, had reached out to the horse for companionship.

So, after a night spent at her side, and freshly out of all his rupees, he took to the road at her side.

Their journey led them up into the foothills, where the silver and brown stone glittered with ore and strange purple mushrooms. Link held her reins in his hands and twisted the leather back and forth like unease twisted his gut. The world around them was dangerous - he’d seen the monsters - and now it was no longer just him he risked. He had someone else. Someone he had to watch out for.

He kept glancing around, expecting an ambush to come for them. Where this information came from, he had no idea.

He soon realized that there was little need to hold Mollie’s reins. She walked beside him easily and followed when he wandered off the path or doubled back.

He began to stumble at the end of the day, exhaustion pulling at him, and she offered her saddle. When he fell asleep on her back, she continued walking until she came across another stable. The noises of it - cuccos and horses and muffled conversations - woke him, and he stumbled inside to sleep.

Link wasn’t sure why Mollie had chosen him. Maybe it was because she had seen him in the field, small and gaunt, and wanted to help him, or maybe she’d seen something else entirely. He supposed he didn’t quite care. At the time, he had been alone except for a distant voice calling him, and she made him realize just how much he’d needed someone.

She was as protective as she was kind. She stayed close to his side when they passed other people, perhaps sensing his discomfort. She stomped her hooves and scared away the pack of wolves that drew near the campfire at night. She lay near him as they took shelter from the rain, and somehow he always ended up tucked against her side, her fur ticking his nose. 

And then there was her gentle guidance. She steered him away from a group of monsters or towards a campfire at the end of the day, and honestly it was annoying at first, but Link quickly came to care for it. It was as if she was looking out for him.

His need to run, to explore, was matched by hers. When he would start running, needing that burn in his lungs, she ran beside him. When he climbed tree after tree, or explored each grove he came across, she followed as best as she was able. From small, glittering gemstones, to old, rusted weapons, they found an interesting assortment of treasures.

What he appreciated most, however, was her company. Her mere presence offered him comfort throughout long days and sleepless nights. He didn’t feel as alone as he had since waking up and his journey no longer seemed quite as daunting.

Link found himself rambling on and on as they traveled. He commented on the area, argued with himself about some plan or another, and asked Mollie frequently for her opinion. Her ears kept turning back to catch his words, and she even seemed to reply at times. There was a disagreeing snort at the suggestion that they ford through the icy river before them and a pleased sound when Link asked if she would rather to stop for the night.

They passed many herds of horses, but not once did she show signs of wanting to join them. She greeted a few of the horses (in doing so, she gave him a chance to reach out and touch them), but she never wavered in her choice to be with him.

After a few days, they finally made their way through a deep canyon to where the village of Kakariko was nestled between the cliffs. Banners snapped in the morning air and wooden windchimes rattled above. The person at the gate greeted Link and offered feed for Mollie. After a moment of indecision, he handed her reins to them with a murmured thank you. He asked about a woman named Impa, and they pointed to the big house on the one side of the road. 

Link approached Impa’s house with great trepidation, his hands twisting together before him. He’d been told to speak with her, but the thought of doing so had him feeling nervous. He drew back when the two men standing guard unsheathed their weapons and demanded to know who he was. They were wary of danger, he realized, and so he held out his hands and stepped back a few steps. Assuring them he meant no harm, and that he wasn’t a Yiga spy (whatever that was), he waited until they finally, begrudgingly, stepped aside.

Impa was a wise woman, face wrinkled by time and eyes wide at the sight of him. Her silver hair was pulled off her neck and coiled under the elaborate, wide-brimmed hat she wore. There were charms all along the rim of the hat and they rattled together when she shook her head, incredulous.

After speaking with her, Link was even more confused. She seemed to know him, but he had no idea who she was, or what she was talking about. Some of it sounded familiar, sure, but his head started to hurt when he tried to remember. 

Impa was patient with him. She waved a hand to Paya, her granddaughter, when he started to tug at his hair.

The earthy smell of hot tea suddenly filled his nose. He lifted his head and noted the small wooden tray before Impa. There was a teapot, delicate swirls of paint decorating its polished surface, and three matching cups.

Impa told him to sit. He did so, and Paya poured all three of them a cup of tea.

Quiet filled the room for a while. Link sat where he was, fingers curled around the cup and feeling its warmth seep into his skin. The tea was soothing. It was freshly made and strong. It chased away some of the fatigue in his limbs, but it also gave him something to focus on. Something to help ease the racing beat of his heart.

As he neared the bottom of the cup, Impa spoke again. She apologized for starting him, and for the confusion he was undoubtedly feeling. She hadn’t realized just how little he remembered.

“We suspected putting you in the Shrine of Resurrection would affect your memories,” she said quietly, and not without grief. “It wasn’t ideal, but we did what we had to to save your life. Hyrule needs you, yet.”

But, as unfair as it was, they didn’t have the luxury of time. The princess had been holding back Calamity Ganon for nearly one hundred years and she grew weak. Though Impa appeared to trust in the princess, she could not quite hide the worry in her eyes.

Link looked away. He fidgeted with the cup in his hands and the loose threads of his shirt.

Impa told Link that he was welcome to stay in the village for a few days, if he needed to. When he recovered enough, she told him to travel onwards to Hateno and speak with Purah, the one in charge of the town’s ancient tech lab. There were pictures on the slate and he needed to find a way to access them. Apparently, the princess had purposefully left them for him to find, and Impa suspected they were key to helping him regain his memories.

“Come back to me when you’ve found one of them,” Impa said, setting down her empty cup. “I will save the rest of the story until then.”

Link offered to help clean up the tea tray, but Impa shooed him out of the room. He stood on the porch for a few moments, taking in the sight of the small, peaceful village.

The thought of staying was a tempting one, but there was a restlessness in Link that he couldn’t shake. There was an itchy feeling in his legs and he paced through the alleys of Kakariko for hours until he finally fell asleep near an unlit cooking pot. Before the sun rose, he and Mollie left the village and, down far enough from its gates, he hunched over the saddle and began to cry.

It was too much. All the information swirling around in his head, the tidbits of memories long since lost; it made him feel shaky and afraid. Everyone around him knew things he did not. And while he appreciated the patience of those like Impa, the underlying hope in their eyes (and demand, in the eyes of a few) had him wanting to hide.

What had he lost? What pains and losses had he forgotten?

And why couldn’t he remember?

Mollie seemed to catch onto his fractured state. She slowed her steps and let out a soft sound, one that sounded reassuring and supportive. With a weak, watery smile, Link reached out and buried his fingers in her mane. The feel of it helped ground him.

\----

More days passed. Miles of bumpy roads and fields went by, and the sun rose high in the sky.

Dining on the wild carrots and mushrooms he’d managed to dig up, Link leaned back against Mollie’s side and took in the brilliant blue sky above. It was a soft blue, full of white and silver clouds. It was nothing like the intense glow of the shrine he’d woken up in. That blue, while beautiful, had seared his eyes and every time he saw it since it felt like an electric jolt through his veins.

Mollie began to roll in the grass and Link followed her lead. He misjudged his position and so, with a shriek and then a laugh, he went tumbling down a small slope. At the bottom, with clumps of grass and mud sticking to his tattered shirt, he put his hands behind his head and watched the sky. Mollie sniffed him, puffing out a breath that smelled like grass, and he reached out to scratch her chin.

As the sun began to set on the third day, the buildings of Hateno came into view. They sat high on a hill and overlooked grassy pastures and leafy forests. He looked forward to the chance to visit a shop. He’d been stupid not to shop in Kakariko, he thought with a frown; while he had little money, surely he could’ve bartered for a meal or two. Now, with his stomach cramping painfully and his legs feeling weak, all he wanted was rest.

Rest that, apparently, he wasn’t going to get.

A creature leapt out from behind one of the rocks beside the path. Mollie reared in shock, a shrill scream coming from her, and the reins were pulled from Link’s hand. He stumbled, mind racing as the creature lunged towards them.

He recognized it. He’d either fought off, or snuck around, ones just like it before. They usually made their homes in caves or open campsites. On the Great Plateau, or the area surrounding the shrine, they had circled him and he’d received several painful injuries in the ensuing fight. The creature’s wide eyes and saliva-coated teeth filled Link’s vision and made him think of those first few harrowing days. 

In its hands was some kind of old, rusted farming tool. It swung this tool towards Mollie, a gutteral sound coming from its throat.

The world seemed to slow, as if frozen by the same horrid iciness that gripped Link’s heart. He rushed forward, hands reaching for the wooden shield on his back. He brought it out, parrying the creature’s attack and shoving it back. Gritting his teeth, he drew his bow and, in one shaky move, nocked and fired an arrow into the creature’s eye. It flew backward with a screech and Link looked away from the sight of the dark, viscous blood.

As it disappeared into a cloud of purple smoke, Link turned back to Mollie. He seized her bridle and held on. Soon, between his determined hold and his low, soothing words, she stilled. For several moments, he stood there, holding her reins with one hand and petting her nose with the other. He cradled her jaw and searched for any sign of injury. Finding none, he pressed his forehead to hers until the pain in his chest subsided.

He couldn’t lose her. He just couldn’t.

He continued up the path by himself and found that there were several other creatures lying in wait. He disposed of every one of them, eyes narrowed and hands clenched. None of them would touch, or scare, Mollie again.

After, he found Mollie standing a short ways away, watching him with her head tilted to the side and ears turned forward. 

Approaching her, Link fought back the shame in his gut. There had been a few of the creatures along their journey so far, but Link had always seen them at a distance and steered her clear of them. This one...this one had snuck up on him. Whether it was the rock that had so easily hidden its form, or maybe he’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn’t seen it, it left him feeling ashamed.

Mollie nudged him. He looked up just in time to catch the look in her eye before she snorted directly into his face.

He recoiled with a muffled cry and wiped at his face with his sleeve. This earned him another nudge, and soon he was laughing again.

\----

Hateno was a lively town, full of laughter and conversation and a feeling of coziness. Link stayed close to Mollie’s side and led her towards the center of town. There, he found a general store, something called a dye shop, an inn, and a place to tuck her in for the night. He wanted to visit each in turn, but he had little money. Tapping his wallet, where four green rupees waited, he figured he could look for work. Work was familiar to him and it gave him something to focus on.

So for the rest of the day he wandered around. Mollie waited under an apple tree while he did so. She ate all of the apples within her reach, and even conned a little boy into getting her more. Planting his hands on his hips, Link chided her for her behavior and got a look of careful innocence in return. He shook his head with a small, amused smile and then accepted work at the dye shop.

The owner, a red-haired man named Sayge, was friendly and his neverending tide of puns made Link laugh out loud several times. Despite how back-breakingly difficult the work as, Link found that he quite enjoyed it. For over a week he showed up to the shop, and from dawn to dusk he helped Sayge mix dyes, haul crates of fabric, and tend to customers. His hands, already blistered from the road, grew stained with all manner of colors. His shoulders and back, shaky from his years in the shrine, grew stronger.

When it rained one day and the humidity rose to unbearable levels, Sayge called a break and the two sat together on stools near the door. Over mugs of tea, Sayge told Link the story of how he’d proposed to his beloved wife.

“It was raining, just like this. I thought it couldn’t get much more romantic than that, so I went down on one knee right there and then.” The red-haired man laughed, a fondness in his eyes. “We’ve been married over ten years. Rain always makes me sappy like that.”

Something about the combination of the story, and the soft patter of rain on the roof, gave Link pause. For some reason, he could picture reflective blue stone and feel icy rain soaking his hair. In his hand was a steel blade, and beside him stood...someone. Someone he’d known for a long time and was so happy to see again. The enemy before them could not damper his joy.

Shaking his head to clear it, Link smiled over at Sayge. He murmured a quiet congratulations and soon the two were back at work.

One sweltering afternoon, Sayge noticed Link tying his bandana around his head and offered to dye it. And that’s when Link found himself standing at the upper level, big chunks of rock salt in his arms, and wearing nothing but his shorts and his bandana. Hateno, he’d learned, had a tradition of dying all of a customer’s clothing at once, so everything you were wearing at the time got dyed. He’d also learned, much to his shock, that Sayge had an unorthodox way of dying clothes.

“Stand still!” Sayge called up, a wild grin on his face. “And don’t move a muscle!”

Swallowing, Link held the rock salt to his chest and stared out at the shop. He’d never been the one standing up here before and the nerves he felt in days previous paled in comparison to how he felt now.

His thoughts scattered when he heard the hinge of the trapdoor beneath his bare feet. His shriek was cut off as he fell into the great vat of dye.

When he emerged, eyes squeezed shut, a towel was pushed into his hands. He scrubbed at his face as he was guided away from the vat. After a few moments he finally felt safe opening his eyes. He looked up, spotting himself in the body-length mirror that stood against the wall. Dye ran in rivulets down his cheeks and dropped to the wooden floor. Some of it was smeared, the bright color further staining the old towel. The rest soaked his hair and his shorts. Part of him hoped it washed out, a bigger part hoped it didn’t.

But it was the bandana he cared about. No longer its original reddish color, it was a bright, beautiful pink. Somehow, a few dusty chunks of rock salt had done that. What magic Sayge worked, Link did not know.

Sayge let out a hearty cheer. “By the tints! We hardly ever get that color to turn out.” He stood back and looked at Link in the mirror. “So? Do you find this palette-able?”

Link doubled over, a laugh bubbling up from his chest. Yes, he most certainly found the color palette-able.

Over the next few days, Link bought himself and Mollie supplies. Rice and milk from the store (much of the milk he drank by itself), some arrows and some feed, and an actual room at the inn to stay in.

He worked up the nerve to speak with Purah, as well. She was the director of the ancient tech lab, or the rickety building that overlooked town. Her enthusiasm was overwhelming, but he couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his face anyway. Gushing about ancient technology and experiments gone wrong, she fiddled with the Sheikah Slate before handing it back. The next rune on it was unlocked.

Link tapped on it with one finger and was suddenly greeted by a selection of pictures. Mouth dry, he chose one at random. Over the roar in his ears, he could barely hear Purah explaining how the princess had left them for him.

Feeling his knees start to shake, he switched the slate off and returned it to his belt. His hands came up to his head, as if that could stop the headache that started to pound at his head like a dozen steel hammers. When Purah called his name, he shook himself and waved a hand. He stumbled away from the lab and down to the inn, where he wordlessly headed up to his room and closed the door.

Those pictures on the slate...their presence was like a weight on his shoulders. They were equally unnerving and exciting. Maybe they could help him remember. But maybe they would confuse him more. All he could do, that night and the ones that followed, was stare at them. In this one, there was a statue of a rearing horse. In that one, what looked like ceremonial grounds. And that, was that Dueling Peaks in the background? No matter how hard he tried, he could not make sense of any of them. With a strangled sound, he pushed the slate away and curled up under the thick quilt.

His sleep was restless. He tossed and turned, the blankets tangling around his frame.

In the cold, early morning, Link tried to leave town but he found a stubborn Mollie standing in his way. She refused to let him leave, going so far as to bite his sleeve when he attempted to get around her.

They both stared each other down, but in the end she won. She was looking out for him again - that annoying but endearing habit she never seemed to drop.

It made him realize just how tired and neglected he was. From waking in the shrine and following that old man - no, the former king - to days of travel along the road, he hadn’t stopped to let himself recover. He was always hungry. He barely slept. Despite his work in the dye shop, he was weak and unable to swing anything heavier than a standard traveler’s sword.

Though certainly understandable - it was going to take a while to recover after a century asleep - it was time he focused on getting stronger. So he forced himself not to sleep, but to lay on his bed and rest until the sun was high in the sky. When he finally got out of bed, he ate a large and hearty lunch, pulled on his boots, and headed out with Mollie. She let him go this time, as if sensing the meal he’d eaten, but she did follow close at his heels.

The two of them explored the areas surrounding Hateno. There was another tower, and Link spent a long afternoon arguing with the sky until finally it stopped raining and he could burn away the briar bushes climbing up its sides. He sat up there for a long while, swinging his feet and looking out over the area. Checking his Sheikah Slate, and even looking through the scope, he marked several areas that he wanted to explore.

There were more bokoblins in the woods. One morning a red one snuck up on him only to be scared away by an angry Mollie. Another, this one a blueish color, Link fought off only after wrenching the pitchfork from its hands. The fight had left him feeling sick (the blood was sticky and it smelled foul), but it had given him a small measure of confidence. After, he practiced with the pitchfork for hours until sweat soaked his shirt and he returned to Hateno. 

For days he continued to train. With pitchfork, or bow, or sword, he trained himself until he could no longer stand. The forms he practiced came to him from somewhere deep in his memories, as if his body had never truly forgotten them.

Each day, Mollie watched from where she wandered off to graze. Not once did she stop him.

Dozens of apple trees grew in the area and he raided each of them, only for Mollie to steal most of what he found. Mushrooms, hearty truffles, leafy greens, and more grew in the forest and he soon learned how to cook them all in a way that satisfied his taste buds as well as his stomach. He made baked apples, complete with a considerable drizzle of honey, mushroom skewers, salads of greens and cooked vegetables, and more still. Cooking, he soon realized, was something he loved doing.

The meals he made also helped to heal his injuries. He wasn’t sure how. At first, he thought little of it. After all, the bruises and scrapes he got on the journey to Hateno would have healed fast enough on their own, right? And surely so would the ones he got after. But when he got into a nasty fight with a moblin, and received a grisly gash on his side, the wound healed far too quickly to be normal.

So he began to experiment. He asked around and poured over any recipe he could find, few as they were. He tossed together the truffles and the mushrooms, and he got a meal that made him feel stronger. The greens and slices of a large orange mushroom, and he got something that made him feel as though he could run for miles. Some fresh rice, a few chunks of meat from the store, and some hot peppers, and the chilly night air didn’t bother him.

He wondered at his newfound ability and made as many meals as he could. Wrapped in cheesecloth or giant leaves, he stored them in his slate, where they stayed fresh until the moment he needed them. And he suspected he’d need them, sooner rather than later.

For he was unable to ignore the pull to explore any longer. The forest and the fields called to him, a siren call of golden sunlight on grass and fresh air rusting the undergrowth.

He spent most of his money - some earned at the dye shop and some from scavenging - on a thicker tunic, one reinforced with leather. Then, glancing down at the last bit of money in his pocket, he shrugged and dyed it the same color as his bandana. The small change brought him a measure of comfort, and with that he and Mollie left town.

\----

Mollie was with him when he found the first memory. The split mountain that was Dueling Peaks was in the background, the jagged shapes just shadows on the horizon. The silver bark of the birch trees around him was stark against the blue water and verdant leaves. He stood still, the wind tussling his hair and carrying with it the scent of damp soil and leaf mold. With his eyes squeezed shut, he could see the scene play out before him.

The princess, with golden hair and teal tunic, striding purposefully before him. The sunlight bright in his eyes. The weight of something, a sword maybe, on his back.

She carried the Sheikah Slate and narrated how they were headed up the mountain to speak with someone named Daruk about the Divine Beast he was meant to pilot. Then she stopped. Lowered the slate to her side.

“Tell me,” she murmured. “Tell me just how confident are you with that sword on your back?”

He could only stare at her.

“It is said that each hero in the past could hear a voice in the sword. There’s not much information on it, but...it’s the voice of some spirit from long ago.” She turned around, gripping the slate to her chest. There was fear in her eyes, but she hid it well. “Can you hear it yet, hero?”

The vision abruptly faded and Link stumbled backward into one of the trees. He slid down until he was seated, staring sightlessly at the river flowing on without him.

The princess. Princess Zelda. He...remembered her. It was faint, and it was more confusing than anything, but he remembered her. He pulled his knees to his chest and tried to recall more, but nothing came to mind. All he knew was that he had...been traveling with her for some reason, and they were trying to do...something. And her voice. It was the same voice that had woken him from his slumber. The one that had guided him out of the shrine and then called to him, soothing and demanding in equal measure, from the castle.

There was a pain in his chest and a clench in his stomach. With a muffled sob, he hid his face in his hands.

The memories were so distant and yet the pain of them was so tangible. It felt like a knife in his gut, a cold ache that left him bereft and lonely.

There were footsteps beside him and a fuzzy nose nuzzled his ear. Mollie settled beside him, her body heat warm against the ice in his blood. He leaned to the side and let himself fall against her. There, he wrapped himself in the cloak he’d bought in Hateno and stared at the river until sleep overcame him.

He dreamed of a castle untouched by evil. Of polished marble floors, of a golden shape above a bejeweled throne. Of disaster striking. The screams echoed in his ears and he woke up, hair damp with sweat even in the chilly night air.

Mollie was grazing nearby and refused him when he tried to climb into her saddle. She made a sound of disagreement and tossed her head. The message was clear: they weren’t traveling until dawn.

So instead he unsaddled her and brushed out her pelt. This eased the irritation in her eyes and Link noted the feeling of satisfaction it brought him as well. Following this, he washed up in the river, scrubbing away the dust from the road and the mud on his arms. Much to his enjoyment, the pink color was still clinging brilliantly to his hair.

He settled back down, hands going to his slate where he pulled out one of the meals he’d made. He ate with a lack of manners he knew would earn him disgusted looks back in Hateno, and then sat pouring over the map on his slate as he looked for a new place to explore.

In the morning, they finally made it back to Kakariko. He had marked several spots on his map the night before, one being a swampy area to the northeast, but he reckoned he should see Impa first.

Impa waved him in with one hand and silently awaited his explanation. He told her, voice quiet and unsure, of the vision he’d had by the river. The thought of it still made him uneasy, but held out hope that it would make sense at a later date. When he was done, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers and waited for Impa’s reaction.

The look on her face was deeply contemplative. She regarded him for a while, and then gestured to a chest against the far wall.

Link opened it and pulled out a heavy blue tunic. Gently, he shook it out and held it up. The designs on it were familiar and he realized with a start that it was the same shirt he’d been wearing in the vision. He looked back to Impa.

“Each of the five Champions was given something to wear. Made by the Princess’s own hands, it was to be a symbol of your teamwork and commitment. Yours was a tunic, as you can see.” Impa paused and glanced down to her hands. “I think you’re ready. It’s time you learned about what happened one hundred years ago.”

Link listened to her story, hands clenching the fabric tighter and tighter. He felt sick. As if sensing this, Impa stopped and soon another cup of tea was pushed into his hands.

“You stood until the very end. The princess had you taken to the Shrine of Resurrection so that your life could be saved. Now, you must free the four Divine Beasts, and you must go to the castle and defeat Calamity Ganon.” She met his gaze, expression so very stern. “The princess needs your help, Champion. You must go to her side.”

The need to do just that ate at Link. He nodded and sipped his tea, nearly choking as it scalded his tongue.

“But, still,” Impa continued and her voice softened. “You are recovering, yet. I can see that. So, please, stay here and regain your strength, or -” here her mouth twisted upward in an amused grin “- explore until you find your footing. Then, hesitate no longer. She needs you.”

After he was dismissed, Link wandered the alleys of the village. The tunic was soft in his hands and he clutched it to his chest. It smelled like wood and mothballs. The smell was oddly comforting.

It was a few days before he tried it on. It fit well, although it was a bit big through the shoulders. Maybe he’d grow into it, he thought as he tugged at the fabric. He’d obviously been much stronger before.

He turned to Mollie and she inspected it with interest. She pressed her nose into it and sniffed, and then circled him as if trying to take all of it in. With a hesitant smile, he asked if it looked okay, and she tossed her head with a sound like yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite parts of Breath of the Wild was the horses. Even if I didn't take them to a stable, I would feed them sooo many apples and carrots. Too bad you can only register five! Either way, I took that idea and soon this story came to mind. Each of the horses that show up in this story are the ones I registered in my first playthrough. Honestly, a lot of what happens in general is based off that playthrough. Do excuse any inaccuracies in horse behavior, though. 
> 
> This story is also a continuation of “Mollie,” a fic I wrote a while back for Linktober. I hope you enjoy it!


	2. Mipha

The two of them slowly made their way to the first of the four Divine Beasts. The mountains loomed ever closer as they walked, dark clouds looming over their peaks. What looked like rain drenched the area, and it showed no signs of stopping. Nerves had Link picking at his nails until Mollie pushed her nose into his hands and forced him to pet her.

With a faint smile, Link finally looked down to take in their immediate surroundings. Swampland stretched out all around them. It was different from the field near Dueling Peaks. Instead of dead guardians and all manner of bokoblins, this swamp was thick with reeds and gently flowing water. Tall trees shaded the area, their limbs dangling into the water and covered in large, glistening leaves. There was a trickle of water all around and the distant cries of birds.

Link waded into the water. He sank up to his knees and he frowned as the water soaked his socks. Then, with a shrug, he kicked off his boots and continued on barefoot. The mud and grass squished underfoot, and he wondered at the feeling. 

Mollie trotted ahead, purposely splashing water against the bright midday sun. She turned back around and snorted out a playful challenge. She waited, ears flicking, as Link waded determinedly towards her. Just as he reached her, she bounded away again, a look of what could only be amusement in her eyes.

With a scoff, Link waited until she ran by him again to leap into her saddle. He grabbed hold, feet scrambling for the stirrups as she ran. Soon, they were galloping through the swamp together. The sound of her hooves, and his happy laughter, filled the air.

Caked in mud and soaked through, Link leaned his head back and let out a cheer. He felt so  _ alive _ .

Link soon caught sight of the orange glow of a shrine. Brushing the sodden hair out of his eyes, he approached it and later came out, tired yet pleased, after solving the puzzle inside.

He sat on the edge of the shrine and devoured one of the meals he’d made before. Mollie walked over, head lowered as if she was trying to sneak, and sniffed eagerly at the food. Holding out a carrot with one hand, Link rechecked his map.

Most of the area was blocked off by the slate, and he knew he needed to find another tower. Looking up, he squinted at the mountains nearby. There, on one of the lower peaks, was the telltale orange glow of a tower. At its base were white, curved structures that reminded him of bones. Great, big bones.

Link stifled a shudder. That tower was going to be tough to get to.

Swallowing back his fear, he dusted off his hands and stood. Whistling for Mollie, who had once again wandered off in search of grass to eat, he climbed into the saddle and turned her towards the mountains.

They made their way through the swamp proper this time. Across wooden bridges half sunk in the muck, and through desolate, haunting villages, they finally reached the other side. Link kept an eye on the lizalfos in the distance, and the great hulking shape snoring in a large clearing. Both looked tough to fight and he had no interest in bothering with them.

Just as he was about to urge Mollie into a gallop, a voice called to him and he blinked, looking around for the source. Then, in the water to his right, he spotted someone waving towards him. She pulled herself out of the water and stood, revealing purple and white scales, and long, sturdy fins.

“You! Yes, hello!” she said, approaching him and taking his hand to shake. “You’re a Hylian, are you not?”

Link gave a nod, and then scratched the back of his head.

“Incredible! This is such good news. You see, I’m out here with the Prince of my people, the Zora. We’re having a bit of trouble back home, and he says the key to solving it is a Hylian. Like yourself, I assume.” The Zora finally released his hand and stepped back. “Our Prince is waiting over on that bridge, there. We have been out here for a few days, looking for someone to help us.”

She gestured towards a glowing spire of some kind. Mostly hidden by pine trees and hills, Link assumed it was the top of the bridge she was referring to.

“All you need to do is follow this path. I mean, it’s a bit...of a trouble to manage, with all the lizalfos around.” She rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly embarrassed. “I’d help, really, but those ones tend to have shock arrows, and Zora like me are vulnerable to electricity. It could knock me out cold, and that’s the best scenario. But you look like you can handle yourself.”

Looking down at himself, Link wasn’t so sure what gave her that impression. He was soaked and smeared with mud. Self consciously smoothing out his hair, he waved a hand for her to continue.

“Okay, so what do you say? Will you help us? Please, I promise Prince Sidon will explain everything when you meet him.”

Link agreed to go, and she clapped her hands together. “Thank you, friend. Truly!” With a last wave, she dove back into the water and disappeared with nary a ripple.

Mollie stepped forward and peered into the water where the Zora had gone. Only her reflection - white and brown pelt, pale blonde hair - stared back at her.

Patting her side, Link led her back to the path and they continued on their way. It seemed like they were going the right direction, after all.

\---

The camp of lizalfos was loud with snapping jaws and guttural hisses. Both of closest reptilian creatures wielded a weapon; one a spear, tipped with a jagged iron point, and the other one a bow, and what seemed to be a three pointed blade of some kind. Eyeing the path, Link was relieved to see a second one, a short distance away. He steered Mollie towards it.

His relief was short-lived. One of the lizalfos spotted them and screeched out a warning to the other.

Link reacted fast. Dismounting and gesturing for Mollie to retreat, he faced the approaching enemies. He ducked an arrow, and then another, but the third struck him in the shoulder. He gasped as sharp, shocking pain lanced down to his fingertips and up to his ears. His fingers curled as an electric current shot through him and he collapsed for a moment, water further soaking the trousers that had just begun to dry. Tuning out Mollie’s scream of worry, he heaved in a breath and clutched the arrow, feeling it scrape against bone. He tugged at it and was rewarded with another explosion of hot, ragged pain.

It was no small wonder the Zora couldn’t help him. While the electric shock of the arrow had worn off, it had stunned him and now left him shaking and struggling past the numbness in his fingers. Also, he noted with no small measure of dismay, it was barbed.

Link looked up through the haze in his vision. The two lizalfos raced towards him, teeth bared and sunlight glinting on their scales. He threw himself to the side to avoid the one with the spear and red dripped from his fingertips to stain the sand below.

The spear pierced the ground right where he’d been. With a hiss and a snarl, the lizalfos struggled to pull it back out. In the next moment, steel bit through its scaly hide and its scream made Link’s ears ring. As it collapsed, another arrow whistled by.

Whirling around, Link felt the world start to spin. The agony in his shoulder was slowing him down and making him feel dizzy. Green flashed before him and he dodged, the snapping jaws going over his head. He turned, swinging a sword, and the second lizalfos’ weapon went flying. The sight of it, spinning steel and rough wooden handle, reminded Link of something. What, he couldn’t begin to guess.

Angry, the lizalfos lashed out. Claws caught Link on the side of his face and his head snapped to the side. Bright lights popped at the edges of his vision. Red oozed out of the cuts and stained the blue of his tunic. All he could think to do was shove himself backward and out of reach.

The lizalfos crouched, long curling fangs bared in challenge. It was as if it knew a meal when it saw one.

For a moment, Link agreed. And then anger snapped in his eyes. Anger, followed by an incredible tide of pure stubbornness. He wasn’t about to become this thing’s lunch.

Right as the creature leapt towards him, Link stepped forward. The sword punched through its stomach, tearing through scales and muscle. Blood dribbled out but was soon covered by the thick, purplish smoke.

Link moved to the side, placing his back against a tree trunk, and just leaned against it, panting heavily. Sweat beaded on his forehead and a sick, feverish heat flashed through him. He needed to remove the arrow in his shoulder, but touching it caused him to cry out, black spots dancing in his vision.

He considered his options. Leaving the arrow in was decidedly  _ not _ one of them. He could barely move his arm, and the thing was doing more damage to him the longer it stayed there. Taking it out was a risk. The barbs on the back had teared at his skin, and would do so more if he just gritted his teeth and pulled. So, that was also a terrible idea.

But he had to do something. Grabbing the small knife he kept on his belt, he looked between it and the arrow.

After, with the arrow left on the sand, he cleaned the wound and then wrapped it in a tight bandage. 

Mollie sniffed his wound and then pressed her nose to his cheek. She supported him as he heaved himself to his feet, snout braced against his chest. When he collapsed again, she waited patiently for him to stand once more.

The tower loomed above, a silent, ancient structure that glowed with an eerie orange light. The bone-like bits around it seemed to be literal bone and Link eyed them with a shiver. He stood, wavering on his feet, as he traced a possible route.

Another set of enemies awaited at the tower. More bokoblins, a few lizalfos, and the larger, meaner shapes that were moblins. Link knew there was little chance he’d make it past them, and even if he did, the thought of climbing the tower in his state made him feel nauseous.

Instead, he turned his attention to the grassy, rain-swept mountains beyond. He wasn’t keen on continuing, and apparently neither was Mollie, but at least he could find the two of them somewhere to rest.

They made camp at the base of the cliffs. Under a small wooden roof, one obviously used for travelers, he made a small fire and huddled near it. The small flames flickered against the rocks around them and provided just enough warmth to keep away the damp chill. After tending to Mollie, Link tucked himself into his cloak and stared at the peaks until his eyes fell shut.

\----

Rain poured down from the dark, inky sky. It drenched everything. The pathway was slick and muddy, and even flooded in places. The river roared and gurgled through the canyon. The trees were weighed down with water, boughs of pine and aspen dragging in the mud.

Link had his hood pulled over his face, but it did little good. The wind shrieked between the cliffs and stole any warmth from his body. It left him shivering, teeth chattering loudly and his toes going completely numb.

Stubbornly, he forged ahead.

One hand held on to Mollie’s reins, keeping her close to his side as they navigated the path, and the other found a sturdy stick he used for balance. Up and up they went, avoiding any enemies they could and Link dispatching the rest before they were spotted. This time, he was taking no chances.

His shoulder ached, and there was a sickening heat climbing up his spine. When he’d checked and rewrapped his injury that morning, he’d noticed the angry red color and the swelling. It wasn’t a surprise, honestly; the arrow had probably been covered in Goddess-knows-what. The meal he’d made for himself - rice and greens, and some kind of bass he’d managed to catch - had only done so much. He needed a healer, or at least the supplies to make himself an elixir. One of those blue lizards would do the trick, but so far he’d found none.

When Link arrived at a low bridge made out of some kind of glowing stone, he finally met the Zora Prince. He was over twice as tall as Link, his shoulders broad and his teeth sharp. Eyeing the bandages on Link’s shoulder, the Prince promised proper medical care once they reached the Domain.

“We have healers,” Sidon said and then he glanced aside, grief momentarily filling his eyes. “I assure you they can help. Your shoulder will feel good as new, Prince’s honor.”

Rubbing at his shoulder, Link accepted this with a grateful nod. He introduced himself and then Mollie, who greeted Sidon with curiosity.

Upon hearing Link’s name, Sidon stared in shock for several moments before his face brightened in a wide, happy grin. “I knew you looked familiar,” he said. “I’m not sure how you’ve returned to us, but it’s so good to see you, my friend! I was just a young one, you know. You came by the Domain a lot. I’m sorry, you look confused. Are you alright?”

Link blinked through the rain on his lashes. The Domain. Sidon. Glowing Stone.

He...he  _ had _ spent a lot of time there, right? A feeling of the stone under his bare feet, always covered in chilly water, came to him. He could hear the roar of the waterfall, feel the spray of its water. He was so young and always getting himself into trouble. Beside him was…

The vision faded. He sighed and looked up, offering Sidon what he hoped was a smile.

Sidon seemed to accept this. “Well, I’m very glad to see that you’re still around. If there’s anything you need going forward, do tell me.”

Sidon continued his explanation, and he brightened with genuine happiness when Link agreed to do anything he could to help. His encouraging attitude, and his general friendliness, quickly put Link at ease.

Sidon explained that, while he could not travel the path for fear of the electricity-wielding monsters ahead, he would be nearby if Link needed assistance. And he was. As Link continued onward, he repeatedly poked his head out of the water to offer advice or to warn Link of some upcoming obstacle.

Link soaked up every bit of encouragement Sidon offered. The path was a nightmare and it seemed like it would never end, but the comfort that was knowing he had another person in his corner helped greatly.

Finally, at the end of the path, he looked over Zora’s Domain. Shrouded in rain as it was, nothing could hide its splendor. Glowing stone made up the entirety of it. From the stairs, the railings, to the very floor, it shone blue and turquoise against the cloudy night sky. A great carving of some kind of fish dominated the space, its tail curled towards the sky and its eyes watching over the Domain.

Looking over to Mollie, Link winced at the sight of her soaked mane and mud-splattered legs. She was standing easily, but he could see the tiredness in her eyes. Much like him, she was exhausted.

Murmuring an apology, he brushed the hair out of her eyes and led her into the Domain where he promptly found her a roof to stand under. After greeting the Zora guards, and promising to see the Prince as soon as he was done, he unsaddled Mollie and brushed as much of the rain from her coat as he could. Digging into the slate, he drew out a blanket, one he’d bartered for, and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“I don’t believe we have proper horse feed,” one guard said, nodding to Mollie. “But we do have wheat and plenty of berries.”

Thanking them, and also digging out some of the food he’d saved for her (namely, apples and carrots and some straw), he hurried towards the center of the Domain.

Sidon strode forward and shook Link’s hand, careful to choose the unwounded side. He gestured for Link to step forward and introduced him to the two other Zora in the room. Link stood before them and tried to hide how uncomfortable he was at the sudden intense scrutiny.

One was the King, a tall Zora who wore a crown and carried himself with easy nobility. The other was an elderly Zora, one hunched over a staff and glaring at Link with clear disapproval.

The King recognized Link, as Impa had. Appearing even more bothered by how little Link remembered, he leaned forward and regarded him with wide eyes. “So, you remember nothing?” he asked.

Twisting his hands together, Link shook his head. He had lost his memories, he explained. He was told how he’d been the Hylian Champion, but he recalled little of it.

“That is unfortunate. I’m sorry.” There were a few moments of quiet. The King looked over the heads of those standing before him towards the center of the Domain. “I would offer any services my people can give you, but at the moment we have little. Your help in this matter is greatly appreciated.”

The elderly Zora stepped forward. “How do we know he’s the one we need?” he said with a scowl. “He barely remembers his own name. And besides, it was the failure of the swordsman in the first place that lost us our princess.”

“Muzu, I expect better of you,” the King said. His voice was low and though there was no threat in it, it was a clear warning. “I understand your pain. I, too, feel it to this day. But it is not the failure of the Hylians - the swordsman or otherwise - that caused her death. You know this as well as I.”

Muzu frowned. After a moment, and another critical look over at Link, he nodded and stepped back. “Fine,” he scoffed. “But I don’t like having to rely on Hylians. This is our business. Dealing with Vah Ruta is for us to manage.”

“Vah Ruta may be the Zora’s Divine Beast, but the Divine Beasts themselves were designed to protect the entirety of Hyrule.” The King looked out to where the rain still fell in thick sheets. “We worked together in those days, and we will work together again.”

Muzu made a sound of disagreement and pressed on hand into the small of his back. When he went to speak, a loud, mechanical roar shook the room and a gust of icy wind carried the rain into the room. Everyone drew back, covering their faces with hands or arms.

After, the King let out a tired sigh. “Vah Ruta continues to rage,” he said to Link. “A few weeks ago, it rose from the pond it’s slept in for nearly a century. I’m afraid it’s still controlled by the Calamity.”

Sidon stepped forward. “Listen, Champion. We need your aid and time grows short. If Vah Ruta rages for too much longer, our Domain will flood completely. Even worse, Hyrule itself is at risk. If the reservoir breaks, it will flood the rest of Hyrule whose lands are populated with so many innocent people.”

The thought of that flood horrified Link. All those open fields and forests, the horses and deer and other creatures. The people living there, making their homes in this new world. He swallowed, managing at last a solemn nod.

“Vah Ruta will not be easy to appease,” the King said. “It’s always been difficult to tame, but the princess - my daughter - forged a bond with it. I believe you are up to the task, however. My daughter spoke very highly of you. Do you remember her, at least? Princess Mipha?”

_ Mipha _ .

The name struck a chord in Link's mind and he stared blindly at the glowing tile floor. The name brought to him a sense of longing and a grief so tangible he felt tears burning his eyes.

Unable to look up, Link just shook his head. No. He really didn’t remember her, either.

“I see.” The King sat back and with a wave of one hand, the conversation switched to the task at hand.

Link greatly appreciated it. Feeling a tightness in his throat at the thought of Mipha’s spirit being trapped, he immediately offered to help. Anything, he stressed. He’d do anything to help.

So they told him the plan.

\----

The burning magenta eyes of Vah Ruta illuminated the night. Link glared up at them as he and Sidon approached, fingers itching for his bow. When they drew near, he dove into the water, swam up the waterfall, and fired an arrow with deadly precision. As the beast collapsed, its last power source destroyed, Link fell back into the water and watched with cold satisfaction.

This was it. The first of the four Divine Beasts he had to free. Mipha’s spirit was inside somewhere, and he intended to find her and free her.

Before the beast could pick itself back up, Link climbed on board. The thing shook and hummed beneath his feet. He looked towards its head, gritting his teeth against the anger and worry in his chest. He was there. He could do something about this eternal rain and help the Zora. He could help Mipha.

There was a small, dark thought in the corner of his mind.

Would she even be there? Was she alright? And, honestly, what would she think of him now?

He felt as though he had failed her, just as he’d failed all of Hyrule. He had fallen, and Ganon had nearly destroyed everything. She had died here, alone and without aid of any kind.

But her voice came to him as he approached the door. So familiar it made him stumble, it was gentle and soothing. She was overjoyed to see him, and yet she wasted no time in telling him just how to take Vah Ruta back.

The inside of the beast was dark, lit only by the malice that oozed along its walls and ceilings. The air was thick and stagnant, and smelled like rot. The sound of rushing water and grinding gears echoed loudly against its metal hull.

Working his way through the rooms, Link thought again of Mipha. He’d stood before her statue, a vigil of sorts, and slowly, painfully, memories of her came to him.

She had been a Champion like him, strong and quick and capable. The pride of the Zora, she was able to heal others and her skill with the spear was unparalleled. She was more than worthy of her title and earned, many times over, the honor of piloting Vah Ruta. She was her father’s beloved daughter, a loving older sister, and a compassionate princess.

She was also, Link recalled as he took control of the last terminal, just Mipha. When they were alone, and the eyes of the Domain were no longer on her, he would see the other side of her. There was a kindness, an unstoppable force of good, in her eyes. She was always there for those she loved - ready with an encouraging word or a laugh over a shared joke.

But insecurities hung over her shoulder. Fears of failure that Link understood so very well. They faced a fight of impossible magnitude, and they were going to do it together.

Stopping before the final room, Link felt the grief return. It was heavy, like the weight of a thousand stones. He clutched the wall for support as his knees threatened to buckle. 

He remembered a warm evening. High on Vah Ruta, he’d sat still while Mipha healed a barely-scabbed-over wound on his arm. It had been from some previous fight, but he truly didn’t recall which and it hadn’t mattered to him. Mipha, on the other hand, had noticed it immediately and set to work healing it. There was no judgment in her voice and even an old, amused fondness to her smile. When it was healed, he inspected the new, pinkish skin with silent curiosity while she sat back and took in the luminous mountains surrounding them.

Link had stayed in the Domain for a few days. He’d missed it. The soothing sounds of the waterfalls and the wind in the pines had sounded like home to him. The cold air, damp and smelling like moss, had cleared his head.

Mipha had joined him on a walk one misty morning. The walk had taken them around the Domain and up into the mountains. Avoiding known trouble spots, they’d traveled in relative quiet for a long time. Then, as they’d circled back towards the Domain, Mipha had shyly requested that Link follow her. She’d led him to a small waterfall beside her father’s throne room and then above it to own room. Seeing Link’s ears turn a particular shade of red, she’d given him a smile before pulling out a small, ornate chest. Suddenly overcome with nerves, she’d fidgeted with her jewelry and encouraged him to open it. Inside was a piece of armor, the blue fabric glittering with silver thread and a single red scale.

It had been sudden and unexpected, but not unwelcome. Having spent years of his childhood in the Domain, Link was aware of what the armor represented. So, despite being so nervous his hands shook, he’d accepted it. He wore it from then on until the Calamity, carefully tucking it in beneath his Champion’s tunic each morning. He had looked forward to wearing it before the entire kingdom someday, even if that day was years ahead.

He wore it now. It was, like his Champion’s tunic, loose in the shoulder, but he knew it had fit him perfectly before.

Accepting it from the King had hurt. At first, he hadn’t quite understood what it meant. It seemed a nice gesture and nothing more. It was armor and it allowed him to swim better, so he had taken it without complaint. But when the King had mentioned Mipha’s dedication, and how she’d made it herself, something in Link’s mind had stuttered to a halt.

_ She made it for you alone, _ the King had said. The two of them were alone, and there was little sound except for the rain slamming against the ceiling above them.  _ I did not know of it at the time. It was returned to us after you were lost. _

A twinge of something - irritation, maybe, or something akin to it - came over Link at these words. Though his memories of it were spare, the thought of people finding out about his and Mipha’s plans in such a manner made him feel sick. Sure, nothing about the Calamity had been fair, or ideal, but the thought came regardless.

The Calamity had taken even that joy from them.

_ My daughter was quite capable of making her own choices and as I remember it, the two of you were exceptionally close. _ The King had looked down at Link, a look of sympathy in his eyes. _ I would have given my blessing, had there been time... _

Unable to form words, Link had excused himself. Standing before Mipha’s statue, he had tugged at the hem and sleeves of the armor. He wore it before the entire Domain, and in a way that was what he’d planned to proudly do, and yet…

Mipha had died. The thought came again, an icy hand clamping around his throat. She had died, alone in the darkness, and she had remained trapped for a century.

Above him somewhere, Link could hear her voice again. She was with him. He could do this.

Pressing his forehead against the wall for a moment, he stumbled down into the final room.

Waterblight was a quick, cruel creature. Armed with a laser and a large spear, it chased Link throughout the room, leaving him no room to breathe. When it was finally defeated, the thing screeching and bleeding malice, Link put his weapons away with shaking hands. The armor was torn in a few spots, his blood turning the fabric a deep purple.

Vah Ruta was finally free. Mipha’s spirit was free.

It was a victory, but Link did not feel victorious. He was tired. He was angry. He wanted to rage - to destroy the Calamity so thoroughly it never returned - and he wanted to weep.

Mipha appeared. Her silhouette shimmered with color as she padded across the water towards him. There was a sad smile on her face as she took in what he wore, and yet there was pride in her bearing. She was pleased to be back, and proud of her place with Vah Ruta. Taking both of Link’s hands between hers, she held them tight. After they’d finally defeated Ganon (she had nothing but confidence that this time, they would succeed), she encouraged him to find peace. Grieve as he needed to, and then be at peace. For she had done what she’d had to and she had no shame. And she’d be with him, always.

Mipha promised to protect him, even in death, and then sent him back to the outer world so that he could continue on his journey.

The cheers of the Zora bolstered him and he was distracted, for a while, from the pain. But when it came time to leave, he buried his face in Mollie’s mane and just listened to her softy, steady heartbeat.


End file.
